Although the apricot boy's eyes were flashing with rolling tears, he still tried his best to pretend to be an understatement. He said, it's okay, it's just a little bit of skin, I'll just go myself. After that, he was afraid that people would see him crying, so he turned around sharply and walked towards the village in a panic.

The xylophone saw that it was just a small cut, and this kind of trauma was a common thing when working in the village, so it was not very tight.

Mao Sheng still shouted behind him with great relief, What's the matter, you can't do it alone.

Xingzi replied loudly as easily as possible, it's okay, it's okay. I'll go find Uncle Guoqing to wrap it up, and I'll be back in a short time.

In fact, Xingzai's wound is really not big, and it is not serious. He was so nervous, only scared when he saw bright red droplets of blood coming out of the tiger's mouth. He hurried back to the village and went straight to the village clinic. A large old iron lock hangs from the door of the clinic. I think it's the National Day and I'm busy harvesting my own wheat. At this time, because the wound was tightly tied by the handkerchief, and he was pinched by himself, he stopped the bleeding by himself and stopped dripping out.

Apricot Tsai's nervous mood calmed down slightly. He was about to rush to the field, and when he passed by the door of the store, he was seen by Zhu's daughter-in-law, Xiufang. Xiufang asked what was wrong. Apricot had completely relaxed, and replied easily, telling the sickle to cut a little skin, and that would be fine. Xiufang couldn't help but drag the apricot boy into the house, took out the anti-inflammatory powder and applied it to the wound, and found a piece of white gauze to wrap around it. She also instructed not to get wet, otherwise it will become inflamed. Xingzi smiled and hurriedly ran towards the wheat field on the northern slope.

As soon as I walked to the intersection of the north of the village, I met Mao Xiang pushing a cart of wheat and walking leisurely. He was about to deliver the wheat he had cut to his yard on the northern slope of the village.

Since the implementation of the contract responsibility system for joint production, the original form of large-scale dry and large-pot rice has been completely broken. Not only have the fields been subcontracted to farmers, but even the yards used for harvesting crops have completely changed their original appearance. Instead of using a unified collective yard, each household has turned all the collective yards into fields and set aside them as mobile land in the village. In order to maximize the income from their fields, families do not dare to occupy a little arable land. They mobilized their own labor and took matters into their own hands to reclaim patches of flat land on the barren hillsides in the east and north of the village, where no crops could grow. Cover it with a thick layer of yellow mud and roll it over and over again with a mill. It wasn't until it was rolled out of the yellow mud that it was like a smooth mirror. These small yards are the places where each household is used for drying, drying, grinding and beating summer and autumn crops every year. Therefore, the rocky and overgrown slopes at the north and east ends of the village are scattered with large and small yards that vary according to the terrain. On weekdays, some yards are always stacked with straw and bean stalks, which are reserved for cooking throughout the year.

The yard of Mao Xiang's house is on the edge of the intersection of the north of the village, only a few dozen meters away from the path leading to the north of the village. There were already some freshly cut wheat piles in the yard, basking in the hot sun.

Seeing Mao Xiang coming, Xingzi automatically flashed to the side of the road and called to him, Dad, busy.

Mao Xiang was startled when he saw that Xingzi had gauze wrapped in his hands. He immediately put down the car, stepped forward and grabbed his hand, and asked eagerly, "What's the matter, did you cut your hand, is it heavy?"

Xingzi replied indifferently, without saying anything, he cut a little skin, and it was fine. [End of Chapter]